90| Pain

Ethan had gotten everything in order.

Two weeks in Lake Haven—a stunning lakeside city with endless water views, charming restaurants, and just enough adventure to keep things exciting. He'd booked two different houses—one for each week—so they could experience it all.

The first week would be about exploring. Sightseeing, trying out water sports, indulging in fresh seafood, and most of all, just being together.

He'd already reserved a table at a romantic outdoor restaurant, where he'd finally tell her everything.

That he loved her.

That he'd always loved her.

And that if she wanted, he'd scream it from the rooftops.

He had even arranged for a real estate agent to show them vacation homes. The kind of place they could escape to anytime they wanted.

He'd made it clear: don't skimp on price, and definitely don't mention it to Sophie. The last thing he needed was her worrying about cost when all he wanted was to give her the world.

Looking back, it was incredible how much had changed. A year ago, his life had been nothing but work, routine, and loneliness. Now? He couldn't imagine a single day without her.

He almost laughed at himself.

How foolish he had been—pushing her away, creating space when all he'd ever wanted was her close. Now, he never wanted to leave her side.

And he had made up his mind about the company.

For weeks, he had been reviewing resumes, narrowing down candidates who could take over as CEO. He still loved the business, but what he really enjoyed was strategy. Finding new ventures, improving what was already there.

This plan gave him the best of both worlds.

He'd stay on as an advisor, guiding the company without being tied to an office every day. More time with Sophie. More freedom. The chance to travel, explore, and actually live.

It felt like the right decision, but before making it final, he wanted to talk it through with Sophie.

Leaving the business for a few weeks had given him perspective. All that was left was to share his plans with her... and then, eventually, the board. Some of whom were still loyal to his father, despite his resignation.

Ethan glanced at his watch, already missing her.

She'd been feeling unwell lately, and though she'd refused to let him take her to the hospital, he was prepared to insist if she wasn't better by the time he saw her. Hell, he'd carry her there himself if he had to. She could be stubborn, but when it came to her well-being?

He was worse.

His eyes flicked to the time again. Maybe he'd just pop in, say hello. Just seeing her would be enough to lift his spirits. She might scold him for leaving work early, but he'd come up with some silly excuse—and if she didn't believe him, he'd flash that smile she always fell for.

Just as he reached for his keys, his phone rang.

Martha.

His stomach twisted. She never called out of the blue.

A strange, creeping dread curled around his spine as he picked up.

"Martha?"

Her breathing was ragged, uneven, like she'd been crying.

He could also hear other voices—hurried whispers, choked cries. A murmur of grief threading through the background.

He wasn't stupid; he recognized the faint, broken sounds of Mia and Lily's voices.

He didn't even realize he was gripping the desk until his knuckles turned white.

His stomach twisted, the creeping unease turning to something sharp and cold. "Martha?" His voice came out tight, barely controlled. "What's wrong?"

Martha inhaled shakily, the kind of breath that came before saying something unbearable.

"It's... it's Sophie."

The air vanished from his lungs.

No.

"She—she was in an accident." Martha's voice cracked, breaking apart like shattered glass. "It's bad, Ethan. Really bad. We... we don't know if—" Her voice gave out entirely. "If she's going to make it."

His mind stopped.

The world stopped.

If she's going to make it.

The words echoed, looping endlessly, making no sense, making too much sense.

"No," he whispered, his voice eerily calm, as though saying it could make it untrue. "No. Please... no."

"I'm so sorry, Ethan."

Martha's voice quivered, thick with sorrow. "We're at Mercy General. Just—just get here. Fast."

The phone nearly slipped from his grasp.

His heart was pounding, breaking, shattering, collapsing. His breath came in uneven gasps, but the pain, the terror—it wasn't real.

It couldn't be.

Because Sophie was waiting for him at home.

Sitting on the couch, curled up with that old book she'd read a thousand times, a candle flickering beside her.

Waiting for him so they could have dinner, so she could laugh at his terrible jokes.

Waiting for him to walk in, kiss her on the forehead, pull her into his arms like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Because he was supposed to tell her he loved her.

Because they were supposed to have forever.

He didn't remember moving. Didn't remember grabbing his keys or stumbling toward the door.

All he knew was that he had to get to her.

Now.

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